


Gone Days

by what_fun



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Assassins & Hitmen, Crushes, How Do I Tag, Inspired by Grosse Pointe Blank - but quickly diverts!, M/M, Slow Burn, everyone’s a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23318107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_fun/pseuds/what_fun
Summary: Minho is invited to his high school reunion. The problem is, he can’t possibly tell them about his profession, or his life, or the last 10 years, because “Professional Assassin of a Supernatural Race” isn’t generally on people’s radar. Minho doesn’t do catch-ups, he doesn’t do small talk, and he certainly doesn’t do friends. But Minho’s world is a lot more complicated than he realises, and he’s about to be chucked head first into it all.~~~Will contain fantasy creatures, a touch of violence, a sprinkling of angst, a tiny splash of smut, and hopefully some good old fashioned stray kids content
Relationships: And many more! - Relationship, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 9
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

What a dull day. Minho chucked his keys onto the hook next to the door without looking up, pushing off his shoes and shrugging his coat off onto the floor. The keys landed perfectly, clattering into place like a perfect hoopla throw. 

He collapsed onto a couch with a sigh, and after a moment pulled out his phone in boredom. Still nothing from that source that promised information. Information he really could have used today.

He had followed a lead to an abandoned building site which was characteristically creepy and totally empty. He’d been told his objectives were gathering here at around noon so he waited, and when two tall men dressed all in black with masks covering their eyes walked in, he questioned them. Yadiya, same as ordinary, they kind of hissed a bit and their eyes went yellow so Minho shot them. He was just about to actually take them down when he was knocked out, presumably from behind. When he came to a few hours later, there was no trace of his objectives or his attacker.

What a pain.

He should have been told there would be more than two. So it wasn’t technically his fault. That’s what he’d tell his employers, anyway.

Sure enough, a call came through on his phone.

Minho rolled his eyes, and answered.

“Okay, what the HELL HAPPENED.”

“I-“

“No I’m not listening, you listen to me. What do they call you? The Immortal Hunter? They weren’t even ARMED Know, they weren’t even ARMED.”

“I was attacked, okay? There were more than two of them. I could have completed the assignment if the information you gave me was correct.” 

Silence. Minho could almost hear the rage.

“I needed them dead, Know. Now they’ve seen you, they know what’s happening. Do you understand what kind of situation you’ve put me in?” 

“Yeah yeah I’ve got it, you’re never hiring me again.” Minho rolled his eyes, it never lasted. He hung up and sighed looking at his balance on the bank app. He needed money, and complications with missions meant less of it.

A text came through from an unknown number.

“The square, five minutes. 4 total, 1 armed, only a gun with what we can see. $5000 for each.”

At least that made his day a bit more interesting. 

Minho grabbed his keys and coat and shoved on his shoes, door slamming as his trenchcoat rippled behind him into the darkness.

He sprinted through the city streets easily, reaching the square with a few minutes to spare. Looking around, he checked the ammo in his glock and jumped up onto a trash can, then a doorway, then a windowsill, then onto a flat roof overlooking the square.

This shouldn’t be too hard. The message hadn’t specified discretion either, and that wasn’t about to be Minho’s problem. 

The unknown number was strange, though. One of his clients must have passed on his details to a friend.

A door opened across the road, and sure enough four leather clad figures stepped out, each with black eye masks. Like the dramatic ass-hats they were.

He would be able to take out one before the others realised. Should have brought his sniper, but too late now. 

Four figures. One with a slim build and a thick coat, another with a black beret, one more covered with black chains and buckles, and the last at the back he couldn’t see. 

Well, wearing a beret in public was deserving enough. Minho crouched on the roof, and aimed, pulling the trigger without a flinch. Beret-man crumpled, and slim-man’s eyes snapped up towards him, their gazes catching. Minho could see the yellow even through the mask. 

The man pulled out a gun from his coat and aimed up at him, but Minho was expecting it. 

He crawled back, and the bullet flew past his forehead. Minho stood, and a figure launched himself up onto the rooftop, the chain-man. 

He aimed and shot, but the man saw it coming. Before he could fire again he saw the fourth man out of the corner of his eye. Fuck. Surrounded.

He turned to run, but he was grabbed by the back of the neck.

“Where are they. The ones you took.”

Minho struggled to breathe, and his hands pulled aimlessly at the one around him. 

“The ones you took, earlier today. You were seen going there, and they didn’t come back.”

The hand dropped Minho, but the men continued to circle him. 

“What? I haven’t taken anyone.” He was crouched from the pain in his neck. He would die here. What a sad death. 

He’d never failed an assignment in the last 8 years as a Immortal assassin. But twice in one day? Just Minho’s luck.

He looked up at the man in front of him, and the man stopped. It must have been the fourth Immortal he hadn’t seen, blonde hair around the black mask, long earrings and tight black clothes. 

“Hey, it wasn’t me. Check the security footage.”

“You kill our race, you’re not getting out of this.”

“And you kill ours.”

The man scoffed. “You’re a human, what do you understand about life and death?”

The man looked over at the Immortal behind him in silent conversation, and they jumped off the building into the square.

Minho pulled himself to the edge of the building, still in pain, and saw three men clad head to toe in black run off into the night, carrying the smaller beret-wearing asshole with them.

Ugh.

Minho lay back on the rooftop. 

He could already feel the bruises start on his neck, and he wouldn’t be able to speak for at least a week. His legs felt creaky and his mind was spinning too.

What a pain.

An email dinged through on his phone.

“HIGH SCHOOL REUNION!! Can you believe it’s been 10 years already?! We can’t wait to hear what you’re up to!!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!  
> I’m back... back again. I have great plans for the boys in this story, I only hope I can do them justice. Let me know your theories in the comments, especially when things get funky in later chapters...

Minho was tired. And irritated.  
There was no way he was going to the reunion.

The woman under his feet whined, and he shot another bullet into her head, right between the creepy yellow eyes.  
He should probably feel bad about killing women, but Minho had caught her stabbing a young human girl, so he wasn’t too worried about morals this time.  
Kicking her body to the side, he fired another shot into the darkness on the other side of the warehouse as a warning to the others he knew were here.

There was no way he was going to the reunion. It was the other side of the city, and Minho was lazy. Also what the hell would he tell his school friends?  
You’re an accountant? Interesting. I’m a trained assassin working to erase a supernatural race that feeds off human flesh, lovely to see you again.

Minho chased a straggler over a metal walkway and herded them into a corner, perfect. One shot in the head, another to make sure. Now where had that little one gone?

He could just imagine it now, all the people he hated gathered in that awful school hall, probably drinking awful prosecco and talking about awful children. Minho felt like gagging.

Oh there’s the little one. One shot... missed. Hm he’s a fast one too. Minho curved back around and anticipated the Immortal’s next move. Bingo. Two shots in the head.

Sometimes things are best left in the past, and Minho didn’t exactly leave on a good note. Prom night, ten years ago. Bit of a dick move to his date, but he panicked, okay? He signed up for the army that evening, and had never looked back.

He had wondered what Jisung was up to, though. Poor sweet Jisung, a little shy thing that Minho had taken a liking to. Probably owned a bakery or something now.

He threw his knife in front of him, pinning an Immortal to the wall behind by the shoulder. Bodily wounds couldn’t kill them, technically nothing could, hence the name, but Minho had found a way. Two bullets in the head, sorted. He made the bullets himself, and he knew he was the only one who could do what he did.

Doesn’t mean he didn’t hate it, though. Minho caught the last one in a dead end passage, seeing frightened yellow eyes looking back at him. The bastard hissed. What kind of self respecting monster does that? You’re not a cat. Two bullets in the head.

It was just so boring, Minho couldn’t explain it. The little thrill he used to get when he realised he was saving lives, the little excitement of the chase and the catch and the fun of it, all gone. It was just dull.

The man chucked himself down on the sofa and checked his bank balance. Perfect. That warehouse job was going to buy some excellent new blankets for his parent’s cats.  
No new messages, no new jobs. Ugh. Minho was just so bored.

No. Hell no. He was not going to that reunion.

Minho checked the email. This Saturday, in the school buildings. Jisung might be there.

Minho threw his phone across the room and heard it clatter against the wall.  
10 years! Jisung wouldn’t want to see him again, he probably wouldn’t even remember him. Nope. Not going.

The man threw off the white mask covering his eyes and turned to the side. It was Wednesday now, he had plenty of time to persuade himself not to go.

Thursday took him sniping a single immortal from an apartment block late at night. Easy. Boring.

Friday Minho spent rolling around with nothing to do.

He can’t go. What would he tell them. What would he tell Jisung. Poor thing he probably hurt his feelings. Damaged him forever. Minho tried to pretend he didn’t care. 10 years and that face was still etched in his mind, in his dreams. He wasn’t even gay.

Friday night Minho had a text message from the unknown number again. He had never got paid for the square job, which was a pain in the ass seeing as he still couldn’t speak properly. Bloody bastards with their inhuman strength.

“East side of the city, early afternoon, between 2 and 6 targets, unknown whether armed, within 500m radius of the high school.”  
Well that was vague. And a bloody nightmare. Now he really didn’t have an excuse not to go.  
Minho rolled his eyes.

“How much?”  
“$10000 per target.”  
Well Minho was definitely going now. He wouldn’t have to work for months.

His breath caught in his throat. What about his school friends? Those boys he’d trusted and loved and abandoned.  
He wasn’t going to stay for long. He might not even see them.

—

A sharp elbow dug into the side of Minho’s chest, and he jolted upright.  
“Psst! Idiot! Pass me that squared paper.”  
Minho blinked open his eyes and turned to glare at his friend next to him.  
“No fuck off Wooj I was sleeping.” He yawned loudly for emphasis.

The school bell rang and Woojin grabbed the paper on the way out, batting Minho on the head with it for good measure.

“Chan’s house?”  
“Just let me grab my folders quick.”

Minho leaned up against the dingy off-white wall as he waited for Woojin to empty his locker. The corridor was full, students pushing each other to get out as quickly as possible, shouts echoing off the battered lockers as smaller kids got trampled and lost.

He barely noticed the shout aimed at him until a body crashed into him, falling off to the side and backpack flying into Minho’s face for a second blow.  
“What the fuck! Watch where you’re going!” His tone softening as he saw who it was.

Two other boys ran up to them, peeling their friend from the floor.  
“Ah I’m really sorry Minho! Someone pushed me and I couldn’t slow down...”  
Yang Jeongin. The youngest boy in the year.

Minho couldn’t help but find his anger dissipate and he reached over to pinch the cheek of the small boy.  
“Innie don’t worry, we’ll teach you to stand up to them one day.”

Minho grinned at the other two, “Coming to Chan’s house?”  
Whatever Seungmin replied was utterly lost to Felix’s whoops for joy, energy seemingly infinite.

They found Woojin on the way out, who in turn had found Chan of course, and they all made their way to the house opposite school like the rowdy teenagers they were.

“Minnie you seen Hyunjin?” Felix asked from his position on Changbin’s lap, who had arrived a few minutes ago.  
“Oh he texted,” there was a faint blush on Seungmin’s cheeks as he looked down at the floor, “just finishing off some homework, he’ll be along soon.”

Minho looked at Felix, who looked back with an equally excited look on his face. He slid onto the floor next to Seungmin, placing an arm over his shoulders.  
“Prom’s only two months away, Seungmin, you need to ask him.”  
Seungmin spluttered and threw Minho’s arm back at him. “Why- Why would I- I’m not gonna-“  
“Come on Minnie, everyone knows you want to.”

Minho received a smack in the face for that, and Felix turned on him.  
“What about you Minho? Got your eye on anyone?”  
The eyes of the room settled heavily on the older boy, and he shifted in his place on the floor slightly.  
“Nah. Probably won’t even go.” He managed as calmly as possible.

Felix opened his mouth to continue the interrogation, but the door creaked open to the left of the room, and another of their friends slipped in.  
The loud cries of “Jisungie!” tinged the poor boy’s ears pink, and he stared at the carpet while the others moved so he could sit.

Minho found himself studying those eyes, shy and never too personal, the soft squirrel cheeks and the dark hair hanging over his eyes.  
He realised a second too late he must be staring, and the younger boy’s gaze flashed up to meet his.  
The look was electric for the moment it lasted, and Minho wondered where such a weak boy got such a powerful glare.

He tore his eyes back to Felix.  
“It’s fine, Lix. I wouldn’t have anyone to go with anyway.”

—

As Minho approached the school gates, his breath hitched weirdly in his chest.  
He didn’t miss the dingy school classrooms, or the lessons he slept through, so there was no reason to feel odd about returning.  
It’s just a building. A shell.  
His classmates probably wouldn’t even be there.

His feet scuffed the pavement as the ground sloped up to the gate, left open for the day.  
The reunion had officially started at 10, but for his “early afternoon” timeframe, there was no reason why he couldn’t be an hour late.

The buildings were worse than Minho remembered, long single story corridors covered with flimsy glass and peeling white paint, and as he pulled open the main door, it was just as he remembered.  
A door slammed and a woman walked past, Prosecco in hand. She turned to smile at him, seeing the look on his face.  
“Honey you need a name badge, they’re on the table to your right.”  
Minho nodded slightly and swallowed. He didn’t recognise her in the slightest.  
He walked a few paces to the right, seeing all the names laid out before him, ordered alphabetically of course.  
His gaze scanned the table, trying not to focus on finding those of his former friends, and to just find his.  
Lee Minho.  
There it was.  
But his hand faltered as he leant to pick it up.  
The name above it was missing, a name badge already being worn.  
Felix was here.  
And the woman’s hand was pushing against his lower back, about to ask if he was okay, no doubt.  
He picked up the badge and decided against attaching it to his black suit jacket, and took a deep breath in.  
He was a trained assassin. A killer. He wasn’t scared of death, and he wasn’t scared of a fucking school reunion.

Minho pulled away from the stranger’s hand, making his way towards the main school hall, and realised a second too late he could’ve just looked at her name badge.  
Pushing open the off-white doors, the scene in front of him was almost exactly as he would’ve expected. Crowds of people milling around tables of food and alcohol, chatting and laughing and catching up.

10 minutes. That’s what Minho would allow himself. Then scout out the perimeter and find a good place to sit and wait.  
The mysterious text had implied the school was the centre of whatever was happening, so Minho could only assume the Immortals would be here. Here or nearby.

He just hoped they wouldn’t interrupt this reunion. There were too many people in one place, too much of a target. It would be messy if Minho got involved.

“Hey!”  
Minho turned, and found a familiar pair of eyes in front of him.  
“Lucas?”  
“Yeah! Sorry I can’t remember...”  
Minho looked down at his hand where he held the name badge. He hadn’t been called his birth name since he was last in this hall.

“Minho. We had science together?”  
Lucas’s jaw dropped.  
“No. You’re kidding.” The other boy scanned his face, mouth ajar, “Shit.”  
Minho shifted his heels slightly. What was wrong?  
“You are aren’t you? Lee Minho. Back from the dead.”  
Minho rocked back on his heels, wishing he’d never come. It had been a while, but it’s not like he’d died.  
“Come on I was just talking to Changbin, let’s go find him.”  
Minho snapped his head up at the name.  
“No. No, it’s fine.” You’re a killer, Minho. Not scared. “I want to... surprise them later.”  
Lucas looked him up and down.  
“Well, okay! I think he was off to find his not-boyfriend anyway, probably best to not disturb them.”  
Minho let himself chuckle slightly. It had always been the same, Changbin and Felix had fawned over each other every second they were together. He couldn’t remember them ever being apart.

“You kept in touch with them, then? Your old friends?”  
Minho made his posture seem relaxed. It took an irritating amount of effort.  
He opened his mouth to speak, but a figure in the distance caught his eye. Slim frame, hair a dusky purple that could almost be brown in the wrong light, an easy smile. When was the last time Minho saw someone smile like that?  
Lucas seemed to follow his eyes, and excused himself to join another conversation with an “ah.”

Why was Minho scared? There was no danger here. Speaking of, he checked his wrist.  
11:10  
Minho should check the perimeter.

Just as he turned to walk back the way he came, Felix’s eyes met his, and widened. The man lost track of whatever conversation he had been having, hand frozen as it lifted a drink to his mouth.

It’s not like he’d died.  
Minho suddenly felt annoyed. Verging on angry.  
He turned on his heel and pushed his way out of the building, footsteps loud on the concrete as he measured a rough 500m away from the school in his mind. He’d barely gotten halfway down the street when the door slammed behind him.

“MINHO.” A shout from outside the door. Minho knew the voice.  
He kept walking, unexplainably angry. And scared.

Of course his friends would be here. Of course they wouldn’t want to talk to him. Felix was just angry Minho had left them all behind. Abandoned them.

And then there were running footsteps behind him. He turned to tell Felix to leave him alone just as the body crashed into him. Arms wrapping tightly around his middle and face pushed into his shoulder.  
Felix’s eyes were scrunched tight, and he was panting ever so slightly from the running.  
Way too fast, was Minho’s only thought as his eyes looked back at the school, over 100 metres away. Felix had moved way too fast.  
His arms were pinned, body awkwardly bolt upright under his former friend’s leaning form.

“Felix.” He murmured. Minho hadn’t meant for his voice to crack.  
“You’re here. We thought you’d-“ the younger boy cut himself off, leaning back to study Minho’s face.

Go away, Minho could say. Fuck off, leave me alone, I don’t want to see you anymore.  
But he didn’t.  
“I’m here.” He whispered, placing his hands on Felix’s back and resting his head against the other’s. “I’m here.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow okay I was so excited to post this last night! It was my favourite chapter and I know it was the best written one so far, and you know what I did? I selected it all to copy into AO3, and pressed paste. Whole thing gone. iPhone notes page so no back-up. Literally just gone. Just left with a YouTube link to an NCT compilation I’d sent to a friend earlier that day. The tears were real.
> 
> So I rewrote it :’) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! It’s caused me enough stress already! I love comments, so let me know your musings on where you think the plot will go or something, I’d like that!
> 
> And stay safe, people!

Minho dashed from side to side to avoid the tables as he ran through the packed lunch hall as fast as he could.

Idiot.

IDIOT.

Of course small pretty Jisung wouldn’t want to go to prom with Minho. He reached the doors, pushing past another group of teenagers to get out into the corridor.

There was only one place Jisung would have gone. A little room, tucked away where people went to cry or have sex. Minho just hoped it wasn’t the latter for Jisung’s sake. The students were convinced most of the teachers didn’t know the room was even there, so it had always been a safe place to be alone.

As Minho ran up the stairs two at a time, the sight of Jisung’s face appeared at the front of his mind. Jaw slightly open in shock, eyes wide, then hardening into something frustrated.

He skidded round the corner on the slightly sticky plastic floor, and slowed as he approached the room.

Ah fuck.

A moan pierced the air and Minho covered his ears to block out the sound. He’d now lost his only lead.

He punched the flimsy locker in front of him with all the strength he had, leaning against it slightly as his eyes started to feel wet.

Idiot. He’d ruined everything.

Minho didn’t look up at the sound of running footsteps behind him, but he turned when he heard his name from a wet and cracked voice.

“Minho.”

Jisung looked like a wreck, hand-me-down clothes ruffled and face red and damp, hair messed up from the hands running through it nervously. The hands dropped to his sides.

“Minho.” His voice slightly louder, more defensive. “Why would you say something like that? It’s not funny.”

Minho opened his mouth to speak but Jisung cut him off, stepping closer and standing his ground. Not something he was used to.

But pain etched itself onto Jisung’s soft features. “Just because I’m- just because I’m gay it doesn’t mean you can joke around like that.”

Minho’s fist dropped from the locker. How easy it would be to lie, to say it was all a prank and Jisung had taken it too seriously.

“It wasn’t a joke, Jisung.”

The boy sobbed once openly, keeping his eye contact with the taller boy before crumpling to his knees, the hands over his face muffling his words.

“Why would you say something like that?” He repeated quietly. “Of course you were. You and Hyunjin are the talk of the year, you could have anyone you wanted.”

  
Minho took a deep breath, wiping away the wetness in his eyes (that definitely wasn’t there) on the back of his hand.

“And I asked _you_ , Jisung. I wanted to go to prom with _you_. You’re small and beautiful and nerdy and-“ Minho trailed off, catching himself. Embarrassment flooded through him at what he’d just said. “Of course, if you’d rather go with someone else...” His confident resolve started to crack.

Jisung looked up at Minho then, eyes looking red as anything. “No _no_ , there’s no one I’d rather go with.” He blinked, taking in the words. “But you mean it? You’re not joking? If it turns out you are I’ll make your life hell, you know.”

Minho laughed slightly under his breath, he severely doubted Jisung could do anything of the sort.  
He reached a hand down to the smaller boy. “Let’s try this one more time. Han Jisung, will you come to prom with me?”

The boy in question took his hand, wiping his nose with the other as he pulled himself up. “Yes Lee Minho, I’ll come to prom with you.”

They walked back to the lunch hall in peaceful silence, neither wanting to let go of the other’s hand.

—

When Minho pulled away from Felix, he could feel his heart beating double time. When was the last time he had been hugged? Squeezed like Felix always had?

He smiled softly at the man in front of him, not quite wanting the rare moment to pass, but the other’s head whipped round towards the school, body frozen.

Minho leaned over his shoulder, just catching sight of a black cloak disappearing over the top of a roof of one of the school buildings.

He had almost forgotten why he was there, and if the Immortals he had to find were in the school hall, people could have died already.

Felix turned back to him, looking as worried as Minho felt. “Stay here, okay?”

Minho nodded with no plan to do anything of the sort, and Felix took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze in reassurance.

He took a deep breath, and Minho watched as the other took off towards the school. As soon as Felix had turned away he reached into his suit jacket to check his gun was loaded.

Hopefully he could use it and actually do his job, he just hoped Felix wouldn’t be there at the time. That wouldn’t be a fun explanation.

He waited until Felix was out of sight then started towards the school, pausing at the gates as he worked out his plan.

Minho had to avoid Felix at all costs, who had likely gone back to the hall to check on his friends. How had his younger friend known the man in the black cloak was dangerous? Well black cloaks don’t mean much else, Minho mused.

The figure had been on the roof, probably heading to the main hall as that’s where the most people were. It had to be an Immortal. What are the chances of another creepy building-climbing person dressed in all black showing up just when Immortals were supposed to?

Minho jumped up easily onto the roof using a drain to help, and scanned the area. There was nothing on the varying heights of roofs apart from dead leaves and moss. He was thankful the school architecture was shitty enough to grant him flat roofs, that was a blessing at least.

Which route would the Immortal have taken to get to the hall? Minho closed his eyes for a moment, trailing the outside of the corridors in his mind.

There was a window into the corridor next to a balcony overlooking the hall, that would be the best plan.  
Minho hopped down onto a shorter corridor, running the length of it with ease before pulling himself up onto a classroom rooftop.

He sprinted to the edge of it, launching himself through the air onto a windowsill with just enough room for him to stand, shoes scuffing on the concrete as the momentum kept him moving.

Minho huffed as he regained his balance. Parkour wasn’t one of his strong suits, and despite his job he loathed heights. Trying not to think about whether he’d survive the drop to the ground if he fell, Minho tried to work open the window far enough to get in, and smiled as the old metal clasp gave way.

Bingo.

He slid into the corridor, and saw that it was deserted.  
Running to turn the corner, he could see through the glass panelling into the hall, but to Minho’s surprise there was no commotion, no dead bodies. The guests at the reunion were milling around low tables with flutes of cheap Prosecco and awkward conversation, just how he had left it.

But the Immortal in the cloak had had a massive head start on him, there was no way he could have got here first.

He pressed his fingertips up against the flimsy glass. What was happening here?

Minho jumped slightly at the sound of feet on carpet behind him and he whipped around, hand reaching for his gun, but there was nothing but silence in the corridor.  
He could feel his heart beat in his chest despite so many years of doing this job. Something was different this time.

Minho crept silently along the corridor to the row of classrooms lining it, approaching the first from the side. The light was off, and when he tried, the door locked too.

He approached the second door, hand resting on the gun inside his jacket and pulse beating in his ears. The light was on this time.

He tried to make his breathing silent, and rounded the locker to peer through the glass panel on the front of the door.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

Seo Changbin, his old school friend, was pushed up against the whiteboard by two large hands gripping his shoulders. They belonged to a taller man facing away from Minho, who was standing slightly too close to Changbin for friendliness.

The man’s shoulders were broad, his arms massive, and Minho had never seen legs look so good in blue jeans before. Bleached hair framed a face he couldn’t see. As he reached a hand up to Changbin’s cheek, obscuring him from view, Minho could see the muscles moving in his arm, and his mouth dropped open ever so slightly further.

Changbin looked very similar, a little stockier than he had in high school, but still noticeably the same. He laughed at something the other man said, and Minho’s hand dropped from his gun as the man reached down and took Changbin’s lips in his own.

This was so wrong, Changbin was supposed to be with Felix. That was how it had always been.

The kiss was rough, both members fighting for control as they twisted and tilted their heads, and Changbin let out a sound not meant for Minho’s ears.

He should definitely go. He had a cloaked Immortal to find, and this wasn’t something Minho needed to watch. His face had started to redden, but he found pulling away from the door harder with every passing moment.

Changbin managed to wrestle some control and grabbed the man’s waist, flipping their positions, and he pushed the taller man hard into the wall.

Minho jaw slacked. There was no way.

The cheeks. The eyes. The face.

Han Jisung.

He definitely had to leave. Now. Minho couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Maybe he was still dreaming from being knocked out in that building site.

And then it happened.

Jisung’s eyes flickered to Minho’s, capturing his gaze intently. Minho felt his heart stop in his chest.

It wasn’t the fact the eyes were kohl lined, or that they had caught Minho watching.

Yellow.

They were yellow.

No sooner had Minho turned on his heels to run, a gunshot fired, bullet lodging itself deep under in his clavicle.

His vision swam, and for the second time that week something heavy hit the back of his head, hard.  
Minho was unconscious before he hit the ground.


End file.
